Cupid Shot Me In The Butt
by Kara
Summary: Michael and Maria do Valentine's Day their own way.


Cupid Shot Me in the Butt   
By Kara (AnyaLindir@aol.com)  
  
Disclaimer: Duh, Roswell is so not mine...  
Spoilers: First season  
Rating: PG  
Summary: On a lonely Valentine's Day, Maria wonders if Michael will remember her  
Author's Note: This takes place Jr. Year of highschool for the Roswellians. :)   
  
  
He leaned toward her, kissing her lips gently. His touch was tender, softer than it ever had been. His eyes cherished her as he held her in his lap. "You complete me, Maria. You make me whole and keep me anchored here on earth, so that I don't need to look to the stars."   
  
She ran her hands through his soft spiky hair, kissing his forehead lightly. "You've become my balance. I love you."   
  
He smiled, a rare real smile. "I lo--"   
  
*bleepbleepbleep*   
  
GodDAMMIT! She hurled her alarm clock across the room. Not fair. Not fair at all. The gods must pay for that.   
  
Her alarm clock hit the wall with a satisfying thud. But the smash brought her mom to the door. "Honey? Is everything okay?"   
  
She rubbed her eyes, ran her hands through her messed up hair. The dream had been so perfect. They were talking about feelings for once, and Michael had actually opened his mouth to utter the three most important words in the English language.   
  
"Stupid alarm clock messed up my dream." She glared darkly at the misshapen hunk of plastic.   
  
Her mom chuckled. "One of those dreams then..."   
  
Maria could feel her blush running up to her hair. She couldn't exactly tell her mom about Michael's latest ploy dreamwalking, and the steam they'd managed to cook up. Leo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, eat your hearts out.   
  
"No, it wasn't..." The dream hadn't been porno though. It had been...sweet. "Michael was finally ready to admit how he felt." She threw a pillow at her alarm clock. "And that stupid piece of crap had to ruin the best part."   
  
Her mom came in and sat down on the bed beside her. "He'll come around eventually, honey." She stroked Maria's hair, and Maria rested her head against her mom's shoulder. "You know he loves you. He's just..."   
  
"Michael." Maria finished up. "Welcome to Michael-land."   
  
Her mom kissed her forehead gently. "Get dressed, hon. Maybe he'll surprise you today. It's been a few days since your fight anyway."   
  
She rolled her eyes. Funny. The whole world knew exactly what was going on in the DeLuca-Guerin war at any given moment. Stupid Czechoslovakians. That's what she got for falling for ET with a rejection complex. Someday, her life would move out of tabloid-ville...   
  
As her mom walked out the door, she turned back, as if she remembered something. To Maria's surprise, her mom was...blushing? "Oh, and honey...I have a date tonight..."   
  
Maria groaned, burying her face in her pillow. A date with Jim, most likely. Why her mother had to be attracted to public enemy number one... At least he was finally off her case. He'd mellowed a bit since the whole episode at the end of last school year... but still, the thought that someday she could be related by marriage to Kyle "Stalker" Valenti...   
  
  
  
Valentine's Day in Roswell, NM. What a joke. All the underclassmen went around in red and pink and white, talking about who they were taking to the Sweetheart's Dance. Maria just wanted to puke. It was another 'off' week with Michael. They'd been doing this for more than a year, and she still couldn't make up her mind why she kept coming back to him--or letting him come crawling back to her. Maybe it was the Czechoslovakian thing. The soft, spiky hair. The dark, haunting eyes. The way her cells seemed to gravitate in his direction whenever he was nearby. Whoa, she'd been hanging out in Liz-land too much lately...   
  
At least Max and Liz were finally back together, after tormenting each other for months with the whole 'friends' bit. They weren't too nauseating. They actually kept things pretty platonic in public. No one noticed the moony looks they kept giving each other, since they'd been doing it unconsciously for most of their lives. Kyle still skulked around, glaring at them, but no one even really knew, or cared that Liz Parker and Max Evans were going out. She slammed her locker door shut. She'd worn black, in honor of the suckiest holiday on the face of the earth. Last Valentine's Day, she, Liz, and Alex had spent the day eating chocolate ice cream at the Crashdown, bashing Czechoslovakians. Not that Alex would ever get anywhere with Isabel anytime soon. They were friends now at least. And sometimes Maria would catch Iz giving Alex the strangest look...   
  
"Happy Anti-Valentine's Day to you too, Maria." Alex leaned on the locker next to hers. Apparently he was remembering Isabel having a date last V-day too.   
  
She grinned at her best friend since fourth grade. "It's a cheesy Hallmark holiday anyway. Just to remind all of us single people how much our lives suck." She nodded to his choice of apparel--all black, just like she was wearing. "In mourning too?"   
  
He grinned back at her, giving her his patented thumbs up. "You got it, DeLuca."On impulse, she leaned over and hugged him hard. "You know I love you, right?"   
  
He squeezed her tight, kissing her lightly. "Of course. You're my favorite aromatherapist." And the warning bell for first period rang. "Crap, Calculus. Happy Anti." And he ran off.   
  
Ugh, now it was time for History, with the world's number one sappy couple, Max and Liz. She didn't begrudge them their happiness. When things were going right with Michael, everything was perfect in her world. Even her mom could gauge how the relationship was going by Maria's current mood. And there had been a lot more on time than off time lately...   
  
But the latest fight had been another stupid one. It was about Michael, as usual, and his inability to express his emotions. He'd been hanging around so much with Isabel lately that she'd begun to wonder if... But this was Izzy, one of her best friends. And Michael had said a million times that Isabel was in everything but name his sister. She just got jealous, sometimes, that Isabel had spent so many years knowing the real Michael, and there were things she was still discovering about this Czechoslovakian she was coming to love.   
  
At least she could admit it now. She loved Michael Guerin. She loved him tasting of Tabasco and chocolate mixed together, and him rattling her window late at night to just be together for a while...even if it was usually in silence. She loved the way he'd sit sometimes, sketching her, wherever they were. And she knew, sometimes, that he felt as passionately about her. But it was just being able to handle those emotions. Someday. And on one of their on weeks, that promise of someday was enough.   
  
But one look from those wounded Czechoslovakian eyes, and that brief flash of the scared little boy under the unwashed hoodlum exterior was enough to draw her back every time.   
  
She stomped into History, inhaling a quick rush of cyprus oil to calm her nerves.   
  
She looked around the semi-crowded class for Max and Liz, to take her usual spot next to Liz. But they weren't there. Max Evans and Liz Parker, apple polishers number one and two of the junior class, ditching history? She sighed as she took her seat. At least someone would get use out of the eraser room...   
  
But as the second bell rang, starting class, and Mr. Gordon began to take roll, the door flung open. Maria wasn't too surprised to find Max and Liz running in, hand in hand. Liz's hair looked disheveled, and Maria was sure that her best friend probably had some hickeys in interesting places.   
  
"Sorry, Mr. Gordon...the car's tire blew out..." Max said in a rush as they took their seats. Mr. Gordon only snorted, and the rest of the class laughed. Liz and Maxy both blushed as red as radishes. But they deserved it.   
  
Somehow she managed to get through history, ignoring the fact that Max and Liz passed sappy love notes back and forth the whole period. Liz wore a new silver necklace, so at least she'd gotten something decent. Better than the half-crushed flower she'd found in her locker last year. Maria tried not to notice Liz's hand sneaking back every now and then to make thumb-love with Max's. Valentine's Day was for losers. She hoped all the people at Hallmark died slow and painful deaths.   
  
But she supposed that she should be happy for Max and Liz. They'd been through a hell of a lot to make it this far. And they really were in love. They were soulmates in every sense of the word, like Max was destined to heal Liz that day at the Crashdown.   
  
As soon as the bell rang, she jumped out of her seat. "See you at lunch, Lizzie, Max..." She couldn't stand another minute in sap-happy love land. Someone needed to rent a nookie motel room.   
  
She ran quickly to her locker, shoved her history book inside, and got ready to make the sprint across campus to English. But before she could leave, someone grabbed her from behind, shoved a soft golden thing in her hands, and kissed her heatedly. "Happy V-Day." A kiss was brushed against her ear, and she heard something that sounded like '"The dove too." What about the freakin dove?   
  
Michael raced off in the opposite direction, giving her that 'King of the World, but I don't care' smile of his. She looked down at the soft golden teddy bear in her arms, startled. Was he getting her a dove too?   
  
English flashed by in a blur, and in Spanish, she somehow managed to conjugate the subjunctive properly for her quiz. She still hadn't come back to earth by lunchtime. Everyone was waiting for her at their usual table but Michael, who must've had a craving for choco-tacos again. She still clutched the teddy bear in her arms, and the bag of green M&Ms she'd gotten him the night before as a peace offering. Maybe she'd name it Michael-bear. That was sufficiently sappy for her first real on again/off again boyfriend.   
  
  
  
Isabel gave her an odd look as she sat down next to Liz. "Max, isn't that the bear from the Crash Festival?"   
  
Max took his eyes off Liz long enough to glance at the bear. "I think so. The one Michael won knocking the cans down. I'm surprised he still had it. I thought it would've been shreds years ago."   
  
Years ago? "Which Crash Festival?" The bear did look familiar. Had she seen it somewhere before?   
  
And then it hit her. Fifth grade. Their first Crash alone. The night she won her silver pencil that she was so proud of. Michael wandering around clutching a dumb bear, his face flushed with embarrassment. He'd had it for that long?   
  
Isabel's face softened somewhat. "It's six years old. I remember that Festival." Dark memories haunted her eyes--Czechoslovakian memories. And surprisingly, she didn't flinch when Alex put his arm around her.   
  
Six years. She buried her face in the bear's soft fur. It was still in great condition. It didn't even smell musty. Somehow, it had a faint scent of lavender to it... But there was still something that bothered her. "Did he say anything about a dove?"   
  
Isabel gave her that 'DeLuca, what have you been sniffing?' look. "A dove?"   
  
Alex looked perplexed. "Umm, Maria...what about a dove?" His arm was still around Izzy. More power to him. Her favorite brother needed a woman in his life, even if it was Isabel Evans. But she had to admit that they were good for each other, even if no girl was good enough for her best friend.   
  
"He said something about a dove too." It didn't make sense. There were no doves in Roswell. This was the middle of the desert. Unless some Czechoslovakian ones had crashed in '47...   
  
Liz gave her an amused look, and squeezed one of her hands. "Maria, think about it. What word rhymes with dove?" Above? Cove? Fove? Gove? Hove? Kove?   
  
Ohmigod.   
  
She felt her cheeks flame redder than Liz's shirt. Suddenly, from behind her, the soft scent of roses filled the air.   
  
"I had to ditch fourth to get them...I'm sorry they're late." The familiar voice was uncharacteristically soft. And the look on his face, when she turned around, was that almost hesitant look that he reserved only for her. He sheepishly held out three red roses.   
  
"You cheesehead." She flushed even redder, looking at him shyly.   
  
Maybe Cupid had shot him in the butt too.   
  
The dove too, Michael Guerin.  
  
  
The End  



End file.
